


The Domestic Ways of Mickey Fucking Milkovich

by ashtonLC3



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Carl the inquisitive, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Homophobia, Kev is nosey as fuck, Lip knows too much, M/M, Set during season 4, they're not as subtle as they think they are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-03-16 18:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13642266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtonLC3/pseuds/ashtonLC3
Summary: Set during season 4 after episode 8.How Mickey is slowly becoming part of the Gallagher family.





	1. Breakfast is a bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings at the Gallagher house.

Mickey Milkovich is not a morning person. Never has been, never will be. So when he's woken up at the crack of dawn by a teenage girl throwing a bitch fit, he's not impressed.

"What the fucks your problem?" Mickey barks from the doorway of his lover's bedroom.

"Carl's hogging the bathroom again." Debbie whined, bashing at the bathroom door.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Mickey moaned, rubbing his face.

"Finally!" Debbie yelled, glaring at her brother as she walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

"Hey Mickey." Carl greeted, walking past him with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"Hey, do you know where Ian is?" 

"Nope." Carl replied, picking up a shirt from the floor.

Mickey walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grabbed the coffee pot and poured himself a mug of coffee. Chugged half the cup and topped it up with more coffee. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. Lip was sitting at the other side of the table, head buried in a fat textbook.

"Have you seen Ian?" Mickey asked, taking another sip of coffee.

"He was gone when I got up." Lip replied, turning the page of his book.

"Hey, morning." Fiona greeted, stepping the rest of the way down the stairs.

Liam turned his head from his place in his highchair and giggled at his older sister. Fiona grinned back at him and walked over to stroke his head.

"Hey, do you know where Ian went?" Mickey asked for the third time this morning.

The man in question strolled in through the back door and smiled enthusiastically. "Good morning."

"Where the hell have you been?" Mickey questioned.

"For a quick run. How is everyone this morning?" Ian walked into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee. Not that he needed it.

"You're in a good mood this morning." Fiona commented.

"It's such a beautiful day, isn't it." Ian continued, much too chipper.

"It's fuckin' rainin'." Mickey stated.

"I know. I love rain. The pattering and the amazing smell." Ian elaborated.

"Are you fucking high?" Mickey questioned, his eyebrows raised.

"No." Ian replied simply.

Carl fumbled down the stairs and took a seat at the table. Pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Shovelling down large mouthfuls. 

"Shit, I'm going to be late." Lip grumbled closing his textbook and hurrying over to Liam.

"I can watch Liam." Fiona offered hopefully.

"No it's okay." Lip answered sharply pulling Liam out of his chair and resting him on his hip.

"Really, I don't mind." Fiona stressed, for the seventh morning in a row.

"No." Lip said, storming out the front door with Liam.

Fiona huffed tiredly. "Do you think he's ever going to trust me again." 

"Don't worry, Fi. He'll come around." Ian replied, full of optimism.

Debbie strutted into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. "Where's lunch, I have somewhere I need to be." 

"Schools not for another half hour." Fiona commented.

"Who said anything about school?" Debbie replied with a snark.

"Good morning, Debbie." Ian interrupted.

"Then where are you going." Fiona questioned.

"None of your business." Debbie snapped.

"Here you go." Ian handed her a brown paper bag.

Debbie stormed out of the house with no further comment.

"Have a good day." Ian called.

"Move over Mary Poppins." Mickey quipped, pouring himself more coffee.

"I don't know what's gotten into her." Fiona commented.

"Bitch be crazy." Carl answered.

"Carl!' Fiona scolded.

"Hey, you working tonight?" Mickey asked.

"Yep, until two." Ian replied.

"Do you ever get a fucking night off?" Mickey complained.

"You could come by the club later." Ian suggested, looking at Mickey over his mug.

"The fuck I do that for?" Mickey replied stubbornly.

Ian huffed quietly, walking over to the table.

"Later." Carl grabbed the last bag off the counter and walked out the door.

"Are you going to be home for dinner?" Fiona asked Ian.

"Nope, got work." Ian said around a mouthful of toast.

"Oh, what about you, Mickey?" Fiona smiled.

"Doubt it." Mickey followed Ian to the table, pouring the rest of the coffee into his mug.

Fiona started grabbing dishes from the table and dumping them into the sink. Pulling up her sleeves and filling the sink with warm soapy water. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mickey stealing Ian's toast, taking a bite and handing it back to him. Ian smiled softly, drinking coffee from Mickey's cup.

"Hey that's mine, fuckface." Mickey protested.

"You started it." Ian grinned.

If Fiona didn't know any better she'd swear she saw Mickey smile back.


	2. Fucking Gay Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is a very protective boyfriend, regardless of how much he denies it.

He told himself he wasn't going to go. That actually being there was only going to bother him more than the mere thought. Ian getting objectified and groped by disgusting old men. Despite his better judgement he went anyway. 

He walked into the bar and shrugged off his coat, taking in the site before him. Bright flashing coloured lights and loud crappy music. Half naked men dancing on platforms situated throughout the club. Old fucks getting a lap dance from boys half their age. Bartenders dressed in ugly silver tank tops covered in sequence. What caught his eye however was a tall pale red head in gold sparkly shorts walking out of the bathroom. He made eye contact with Mickey and winked at him, a smug grin plastered on his face. He jumped up on the nearest platform and clung onto the pole.

Mickey walked straight to the bar and ordered himself three shots and a beer. Downed the shots and took his beer over to the stage where a certain red head was dancing.

"Glad you could make it." Ian greeted from his pole.

"Don't get too excited." Mickey muttered.

Ian showed off for a couple of minutes, never ceasing to lose eye contact with his partner. 

"Move along, you've had your turn." A blonde guy dressed in a tight blue shirt and skinny jeans ordered.

"Yeah well it looks like you could use a turn of my fucking fist." Mickey barked back at him fuming.

"Go hire a prostitute if you're that horny." The blonde bitched.

Ian jumped down from the stage and stood in between the two. "Look, Mickey. Grab another beer this will just take a minute."

"I'm not going anyway." Mickey said fiercely, staring intently at his competition.

"Mickey, this is my job." Ian said placatingly.

"Fine." Mickey grumbled, doing as Ian said.

"Hey, handsome." The guy flirted, stroking his hand down Ian's chest. 

"Nope. Nah ah." Mickey turned back around grabbing the offending hand and shoving it off.

"What the fuck man!" The blonde whined.

"Keep your girly fucking hands off him or I'll cut them off and sell them on eBay at half price!" Mickey snapped.

"Whatever." The guy turned around and stormed off with a huff.

"How am I supposed to make any money when you're scaring off all my customers." Ian asked.

"Here." Mickey smacked 100 bucks into Ian's hand.

~

Closing time was growing nearer and the crowd was dying down. Ian got off the stage and went into the locker rooms to change. Mickey waited patiently at the bar finishing off the last of his beer. Ian walked out in respectable clothing chatting with another employee. 

"And then Fiona chased him down the street with a baseball bat." Ian laughed to the brunette beside him.

"Wow, your family sounds quite entertaining." He replied.

"Oh, Mickey this is Ryan. Ryan, this is my ah... this is Mickey." Ian said, almost slipping up.

"Oh your still in the closet, I understand. Only been out myself a couple of months." Ryan assured.

Mickey stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around uncomfortably. 

"Well it was nice meeting you. See you Friday, Ian." Ryan said walking away from the couple.

"Bye." Ian replied.

Mickey nodded continuing to look at a stain on the wall behind the bar.

"Sorry, I know you..." Ian started.

"Don't worry about, lets just go." Mickey interrupted.

They exited the bar and walked out into the cold chill of the night. Ian pulled his coat around his chest tighter and rubbed his hands together. He shivered at the slight breeze hitting his face.

"Jesus Christ it's fucking cold." Mickey grumbled.

They walked down the street towards the L bumping shoulders as they walked. Ian glanced over at Mickey periodically, his gaze falling to Mickey's hand and then looking away quickly again.

"I'm not holding your fucking hand." Mickey commented bluntly.

Ian's face fell and he looked away guiltily. Mickey grumbled quietly to himself and looked around warily for spectators. He slowly moved his arm to wrap around Ian's hips, snuggling close to him for heat.

"FAGGOTS!" Some middle aged man yelled from the distance.

Mickey flinched away from Ian as if he had been burnt by a hot stove. He stopped and turned around to death glare the bigot in question.

"You got a fucking problem!" Mickey yelled marching towards the man.

"Yeah I do! I got a problem with you and your fairy fucking boyfriend polluting American soil with your disgusting homosexual disease! You two should be ashamed of yourselves and your outrageous sins! You're repulsive and filthy, you and the rest of the gays should all go to hell!" The man yelled back.

Mickey launched his fist into the homophobe's face and kneed him in the crotch. "Piece of fucking shit!"

The man clogged him one in the ribs. "Satan's spawn!"

Mickey kicked him onto the ground and continued to boot him in the side repeatedly. "Liking what I like don't make me your fucking punching bag! Go climb back into the dumpster you fell out of, you fucked up sack of shit!"

Mickey took three steps back and flipped off the man on the ground. He walked away continuing the route to the L. Ian silently followed Mickey to the station and stood next to him, waiting for the train to come.

"Thank you." Ian said earnestly.

"For what?" Mickey replied 

"For standing up to the homophobe earlier."

"Asshole needed to learn his fucking lesson." Mickey stated, lighting up a cigarette.

He inhaled deeply and passed the smoke onto Ian. Ian took a breath of smoke and handed it back. Ian smiled smugly at Mickey and brushed his arm against his.

"Don't push your fucking luck, Gallagher."


	3. When No One Else Is Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home alone, until they're not.

It was a Tuesday. Fiona was at a job interview, Lip was at school. No one was home, except for Mickey and Ian. Time alone in the Gallagher house was rare, so Ian was making the most of it.

"We got the popcorn, couple of beers and one hot and sweaty Arnold Schwarzenegger." Ian called, carrying popcorn in one hand and a six-pack in the other.

"Pass me a beer." Mickey replied from the sofa.

Ian handed him the six-pack and placed the popcorn on the coffee table. He sat down next to Mickey and pressed play, the opening credits of Terminator rolling on the screen.

"Why the fucks he naked." Mickey asked a few minutes later, taking a sip from his beer.

"They can't time travel while wearing clothes. Something about inorganic components messing with the machine." Ian answered, lighting a cigarette.

"Just an excuse to make them walk around naked if you ask me." Mickey scoffed, snatching Ian's cigarette and inhaling deeply.

"Probably." Ian added, inching closer to the man next to him.

The movie continued for another hour or so. Mickey got up to grab a few sandwiches and sat back down on the sofa. Ian grabbed one and took aggressive bites of the bread, consuming the whole thing in a manner of seconds.

"Damn Gallagher, I've seen pigs eat slower." Mickey teased, taking a bite out of his own sandwich.

"Fuck off." Ian replied, siting back to watch the movie.

Mickey finished off his sandwich and placed the plate on the coffee table. He leaned back and wrapped an arm around Ian's broad shoulders. Ian turned his head and smiled sweetly. Mickey responded by grinning of equal measure, resting his head against Ian's.

"This is nice." Ian commented absentmindedly.

"I know what would be even nicer, firecrotch." Mickey said suggestively.

"Oh yeah." Ian grinned.

He crashed his lips to Mickey's, the intensity matching the action scene playing in the background. Mickey pulled at the hem of Ian's shirt, yanking it off in between heated kisses. Clothes started coming off quicker until they were both naked on the sofa, bodies sliding against each other. Ian was ready to stick his dick up Mickey's ass when a yell of fright came from the front door.

Lip was standing there, Liam on his right side, backpack on the left. Mickey jumped off the sofa and grabbed his pants, shoving them on as fast as humanly possible.

"For fucks sake, Lip. I thought you had school till 2?" Ian asked with irritation. 

"It's almost 3." Lip replied dropping Liam and his bag on the floor.

"Popcorn!" Liam said excitedly, running straight to the bowl and stuffing a handful into his mouth.

"Ooooo Terminator." Lip commented, sitting in one of the armchairs.

Mickey stood next to the still naked red head, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Staring at the unfazed intruders, enjoying the rest of the forgotten movie. Mickey walked slowly out into the kitchen, passing back and forth on the tiled floor. Ian soon followed, now with pants.

"What the fuck was that?" Mickey asked, voice cracking a little.

"My brothers walking in on us fucking." Ian replied bluntly.

"He knew. He fucking knew." Mickey muttered, rubbing his hands down his face.

"He's known for a while." Ian confessed.

Mickey stared at him unblinkingly. "How long?" 

Ian looked away guiltily. "Since Kash shot you."

Mickey was speechless. He didn't know if he should cry, or run away or throw a fucking party. 

"We got any chips?" Lip asked walking past them and looking in the cupboards.


	4. What You Asking Stupid Fucking Questions For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl is really good at asking questions.

Dinner at the Gallagher house was loud, really fucking loud. People talking nonstop, chewing, banging of plates and cutlery. So when everyone sat in silence and stared at the couple, it was a first.

Carl asked the question that everybody had been thinking but were too afraid to ask. "Why are you over here all the time?"

Mickey had responded much like he did to any question that made him uncomfortable. "What you asking stupid fucking questions for."

It wasn't a question it was a statement. One that made it very clear the topic was no longer up for discussion. However this time the conversation didn't stop there. Apparently Carl wasn't the only one whose interest was peaked at the mention of Mickey's habitation of the floor by Ian's bed.

"Yeah Mickey, what is it about Ian's floor that's so irresistible?" Lip put forward, taking a long gulp of his beer.

"Problem with the missus?" Fiona asked with genuine interest.

"Something like that." Mickey replied vaguely, rubbing his sweaty hands on his thighs.

"Then why don't you sleep on the couch? Would be better than the floor." Debbie added.

Mickey knew the answer to that. The answer would be yes the floor does fucking suck but I'd rather sleep next to Ian upstairs, even if that means sleeping on the cold floor. However he would rather slam his balls in the door than admit that.

"Closer to the bathroom." Mickey lied, shovelling a mouth full of mashed potato down his throat.

"Even I know that's bullshit." Carl replied.

~

Later that night after everyone went to bed and Ian was in the shower, Carl decided he wasn't satisfied with Mickey's answer. "Is it like when people are afraid of the dark?" 

"What?" Mickey grumbled, rolling over to look at the boy.

"Are you scared to sleep alone? Is that why you sleep on the floor instead of the couch?"

"Why are you Gallaghers so fucking interested in where I sleep?" 

"It's okay if you are." Carl assured, tucking an arm underneath his pillow.

Ian walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He picks up a pair of pants off the floor and drops the towel.

"Can't you do that somewhere else?" Carl whines.

"Oops, sorry, didn't know you were still awake." Ian replies, pulling his pants on.

"You knew Mickey was awake." Carl pointed out.

"Go to sleep Carl." Ian ordered, stepping over Mickey and hopping into bed.

"Why do gay men like dicks up their butt?" Carl asked.

"How the fuck should I know?" Mickey answered.

"I was asking Ian." 

"Shut up." Ian says firmly, staring at the ceiling.

"Fine."

"What the fuck you looking at?" Mickey snapped, cheeks slightly pink.

"Never mind." Carl huffed, rolling over in his bed to face the wall.


	5. I Hate This Fucking Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: don't leave your fucking phone where Kev can see it.

Mickey had been overlooking work at the Rub n’ Tug for too many fucking hours. Bitchy whores, gross ass old men, Kev’s stupid fucking face. If he had to look at any more naked chicks he was gonna dunk his eyeballs in bleach. 

Mickey’s phone dinged from the pocket of his winter jacket. He pulled out the device and opened his messages. Ian had sent him a picture of his new work clothes, a deep ocean blue with way too much sequence. 

Mickey: the fuck is that shit

Ian: the new uniform

Mickey: your pants get any tighter your dicks gonna fall out

“Can you give me a hand with these?” Kev asked, dumping a case of beer into Mickey’s arms.

“I'm not your fucking slave.” Mickey bitched, putting the case down with the rest of the alcohol.

Kev walked back to the bar and glanced down at the abandoned phone. “That's the way you like it. Who the hell’s Firecrotch?”

“None of your fucking business.” Mickey snapped, snatching away his phone from Kev’s prying eyes.

“Into some kinking shit, Mickey?” Kev teased, pouring out a beer and sliding it over to Mickey.

Mickey glared back at the bartender and unlocked his phone. Replying to Ian’s text.

Ian: That's the way you like it

Mickey: Not the only way I like it

Mickey placed his phone back on the bar and took a gulp of his beer. Pulled a smoke out of his pocket and lit it up, inhaling the smoke.

“Bent over, good and hard.” Kev read, glancing at the screen.

“Do it again and I rip your eyes outta your skull!” Mickey seethed.

Mickey continued to glare at the bartender silently loathing Ian for being sexy as fuck and sending him half naked pictures while he's at work. His phone buzzed another two times but Mickey ignored it, cause fuck Ian and his fucking hot piece of ass.

“You gonna get that?” Kev questioned pointing at the phone.

Mickey just stuck up his finger and snatched up his phone. However that didn't stop these assholes from sticking their noses where it didn't belong.

“Don't stop on our account.” Tommy snickered, from the barstool beside Mickey.

“Fuck you.” Mickey countered.

“Sounds like someone else has got that covered.” Kermit joined in.

“Who's got what covered?” Said the voice from behind Mickey.

“Mickey’s mistress.” Tommy answered.

“What?” The new comer questioned taking the seat on Mickey’s other side.

“Hey man, Mickey’s sexting some chick. Know anyone who goes by firecrotch?” Kev continued.

“Yeah Mick, who's firecrotch?” Ian asked obliviously.

Mickey glared at the redhead furiously.

“Who has fiery crotch?” Svetlana questioned, walking towards the bar.

“No one.” Mickey snapped.

“20 bucks it's that chick with the huge ass, gave ten different guys herpes.” Tommy chuckled. 

“Or the blonde with Chlamydia.” Kermit added.

“Which one?” Tommy snickered.

“You fat fucks have nothing better to do than talk about the places I put my dick.” Mickey grumbled.

“Only the tingly ones.” Kev commented, wiggling his eyebrows.

Mickey rubbed at his face, trying to make this whole conversation disappear.

“You give me disease, I cut off penis with butter knife.” Svetlana announced calmly.

“Maybe it's a hair thing.” Kev pondered, poring a fresh beer.

“You like redheads, Mick?” Ian questioned with a small smile.

“Oh yeah remember that redhead he fucked a couple months back in the bathroom.” Kermit reminded.

“And the freckles, fucking alien looking.” Tommy added mockingly, quoting the Milkovich.

Mickey stared at his hands nervously, trying ever so hard not to glance at the man beside him. Panic slowly rising in his chest, at the thought of someone possibly figuring out his secret.

“Hey Lana, why don't you tell your pube loving husband about the creep that was here earlier.” Kev said, changing the topic.

“Ugly fucker with moustache and wrinkly dick. Hit Nika with bat, you beat shit out of him.” Svetlana ordered in her thick accent.

“Where?” Mickey asked.

“North side. Fancy car and nice shoes.” Svetlana answered, handing Mickey a small piece of paper with an address scribbled down.

“Got it.” Mickey got off his stool and walked out of the Alibi.

Less than a minute later Ian followed him out, grabbing hold of Mickey's arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Fuck do you want.” Mickey snarled at the redhead.

“You mostly.” Ian replied without hesitation.

“Later, I've got shit to do.” Mickey snatched his arm away and kept walking.

“I can help.” Ian pushed, following after the shorter man.

Mickey laughed dryly. “Good one, Gallagher.”

“I know the guy.” Ian admitted.

“Wrinkly creeps with no boundaries, yeah sounds like your type.” 

“He's loaded and a shitty lay.” Mickey smirked at the last part.

“Let's rob some geriatric viagroids.” Mickey added a little more warmly, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Ian pushed Mickey down a dark alley and latched onto his neck, sucking desperately at the skin. Moans escaping from Mickey’s open mouth. Ian running his hands under his shirt and over his stomach.

“Fuck.” Mickey breathed shakily.

“That's the plan.” Ian replied smugly, undoing his pants and turning Mickey to face the wall.

“Oh fuck.” Mickey groaned, as Ian's dick breached his asshole, rocking in and out slowly.

“Should have brought lube.” Ian commented absentmindedly.

“Harder.” Mickey ordered, thrusting back into Ian.

Quickening their pace until they both cummed hard. They zipped their pants up and continued down the alley as if they hadn't just fucked against the side of the bar.

“What's the plan, firecrotch.”


End file.
